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Myra DuBois in Ey-Up Myra – Christmas spectacular

On Monday 4 December the festive grab bag that is Myra DuBois is bringing her ‘Christmas Spectacular’ to the Clapham Grand. In honour of this yuletide smorgasbord we have asked Rotherham’s own Mrs Clause to tell us how she plans to recover the festive spirit and survive the season. Boys and girls we present Myra DuBois’ 12-step programme to Christmas recovery!

Well it’s here, isn’t it? Christmas, the sneaky trickster, has snuck upon us and across the provinces town lights are being switched on by C-list celebrities appearing in pantomime. As it happens, I’m writing this to you from Leeds where I’m appearing in Jack and the Beanstalk at the Carriageworks Theatre. But I believe I’m the only A-Lister working in the genre this Christmas…

I digress. People often expect me to hate Christmas, being of a, shall we say, cynical disposition. And it’s true, I used to. But my sister, Rose, starts sorting the decorations out in September and now we have a non-binary baby in the family (Rose bought a book on progressive parenting out the Sue Ryder shop), Christmas has become impossible to avoid. Below are the 12 steps I adopted in recovering my festive spirit. I hope they are as useful to you as they are to me each year. Enjoy.

1. We admit that we are powerless over Christmas, that resistance to the Yule Tide is futile.

I mean, it’s everywhere isn’t it? From November onwards, and if it weren’t for Halloween I daresay we’d see it creep into October too.

2. Come to believe that we’d have an easier time all round if we just gave in to Christmas and went along with the bloody thing.

From joining in with work-place secret Santas to the office party; I promise you’ll have an easier time if you just go along with things.

3. Made a decision to turn over ourselves to Christmas as we understand it.

I’m offering you a loophole here. As you understand it – a wise man once said (Scrooge, it was Ebeneezer Scrooge): “You keep Christmas in your way and I shall keep it in mine.”

4. Make a searching and fearless trip to the off-licence.

Be brave in your beverage choice. There are some strange and exciting elixirs available at this time of year.

5. Admit to ourselves, to one other human being and to some sort of Christmas effigy (Jesus, Santa, whatever works for you) that we’re secretly not into Christmas.

It’ll be a weight off your mind if someone else knows how you truly feel, I promise you.

6. We’re entirely ready to have mulled wine remove all these defects of character.

Nothing helps you get on board with things quite like a drink in hand. Even if you do end up showing yourself up. Cheers!

7. Humbly asked a higher power to remove our hangovers.

Pray to God, fry up a bacon sandwich. It’s up to you to decide what your higher power is.

8. Made a list of those we have wronged and prepared to send Christmas cards to them all.

Fallen out with anyone this year? Act like nothing’s happened with a Christmas card. Good will to all and something like that. Consider this a Christmas special on the British stiff upper lip.

9. Make sure you get a Christmas Card back off the bugger.

And if not, they’re off next year’s inventory. Tit for tat.

10.Continue to take personal inventory of suitable Christmas things to do.

Be sure to have eaten mince pies. See a panto (the one at Her Upstairs is rather good and I appear in it via video – cheeky plug).

11.Learn, through prayer and meditation, to remove ourselves from the room when it’s all too much.

If you really, truly and honestly can take no more Christmas, we urge you to find a spot on the floor and concentrate on it. Some call this mediation.

12. Having compromised to accept Christmas (as we understand it, don’t forget that bit) we endeavour to repeat these steps annually until finally the sweet bleakness of January releases us.